June 8, 2011

Initial reflections on living with Cancer


Upon finding out the news about the tumor last Friday, Laura and I were overcome with fears. Fear of the unknown, of an early death, of not being able to live toward a ripe old age together. Fear that we had missed out on something in life, perhaps things we decided to wait on, and now it was possibly too late.

Time transformed into slow threads of an alternately spun reality, dangling in front of our downcast eyes. An out of body, out of mind state enshrouded us wherever we went. We were witnessing our bodies mechanism to protect the fragile mind in the face of devastating circumstance, the face of God. Simple things, like walking on a familiar trail, or down the aisles of the local supermarket, were experienced with 'through the looking glass' surrealism.

On Saturday evening we aimlessly plodded through Target to get out of the house and pick-up a few necessities. During our trip, in the store, a Schwinn Cruiser caught Laura's eye and we took it down from the display rack. The name 'Lulu' was printed across the Cruiser's frame and it was painted a soft pink all over. Laura hopped on the cushy seat, grabbed the easygoing handlebars and rode around the rubberized floors. The wheels of the bike squealed as she pedaled down the aisle and turned to make her way back to me. Laura smiled and it was a joy to see. I remember asking myself, "Is this really happening to us?"

After learning more from the surgeon on Monday we found out how the tumor could be removed sugically and how the cancer could be eradicated with various treatments. Our minds began to organize the facts (and some of our emotions) allowing the illusion of the 'real world' to regain a foothold and let us get back to some normalcy of routine.

We shift back and forth between the realities of the Cruiser and that of living with Cancer. Uncertainty abounds in the beginning of this journey, but our spirits are lifted as we learn more about the advances medicine has made and how many people are able to live well after cancer. With more tests pending this week, waiting for results is the name of the game right now. Life has been given a fresh poignance and we seek to find eternity in each moment as it comes.

6 comments:

Rachel said...

Joshua, I left Laura a voice mail, but please know we are here for you guys...if you need a helping hand to fly in and cook, clean, shop, lend an ear--just let me know...We love you guys...

Anonymous said...

Just read. CRAP! I am so sorry to hear this. Please know that although I may not write much these days I think about you all the time and will be praying for you!! Love, HARP

Vickie Aversman said...

Laura: You mom has let me know of what's going on. I truly want you to know you are in my (our) prayers and thoughts. I know you will deal with this in the best way possible. I agree with you, cancer just sucks. Be a fighter, as I know you to be. Thank you guys for keeping me in the loop. If there is anything I can ever do for you, you have but to let me know. Take care my dear and our love to you both.

Laura Bee said...

Laura and Joshua,

Can you feel the love and concern flowing from the corner of 65th and 20th in Ballard? Is it possible to love what Joshua wrote here, and yet hate what he's announcing?

I'm glad you two have each other, and know that you will get through this as a team.

Tell your friends and family what we can do to help you through this.

Laura B.

Edward said...

I am new at this blog thing so I missed some of the postings that were displayed earlier this week. As much as I wanted to keep my personal comments private and only to immediate family, I said, “what the heck” let our family and your friends know how I feel.
Joshua, your mom and I were very much touched by your “Initial reflection on living with Cancer”. Here I thought I was this macho, ex-military tough guy who never cries. I cannot remember the last time I shed a tear. It may have been when my mom passed away some 26 years ago. This week when your mom called me initially of Laura’s situation, of course I was shocked. When I talked to you on the phone that same day I shed my first tears, and again when I talked to Joe and Laura. Tonight it was different. Your mom and I cried TOGETHER as we read your very touching comments. It is a love story that went awry. This love story just took a detour in a different direction. But you know what? You and Laura will continue to hike those familiar trails and one day return to Washington and climb Mt. Rainier together. You and Laura will be here in 2014 to help us celebrate our 50th anniversary and you too will one day celebrate your golden anniversary.
To Laura, we will feel the emotional pain as you sadly endure the physical pain. You will survive this because you have that “can do” attitude. You have Joshua there for you to give you additional strength as you go through these trying moments. You will survive this because you have a good medical team. You will defeat this because you have the will to survive.
Anneliese and I want to continue hearing both of you “Schatzie” each other to death. No pun intended. We love both of you so very much.

Jamie said...

Hi Laura, just wanted you to know that my dad is keeping me posted on your progress. My dad is Randy Gray, and Joe (your dad) is a good friend of his. I think you and I are about the same age and it has hit my dad hard thinking about that. I just can't imagine what you must be going through, but you seem so strong and positive which will take you through this. Hang in there and know you are being prayed for, even though we have never met! Take care, Jamie Burrell, Carnation, WA